Knight in Shining Armor
by Kendall N.S
Summary: Sam and Dean are snatched from a dead end facing Dragons by a mysterious power. They wake up in a place they don't remember being with a strange girl spouting all sorts of nonsense. The same sort of nonsense Castiel spouted when he first came along. And the way she looks at Sam is unnerving. Rated for language and nudity.
1. Knight in Shining Armor

_****Don't Own  
_

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_**Prologue- **_

They were running for what felt like forever, fire tagging at their heels. Fear and raw adrenalin pumped through their systems. The Winchester brothers were pulled to a grand stop at a concrete dead end. The only way out was up and that was about twenty feet up and only god knew what was beyond that. Dragons were closing in and their guardian angel was nowhere in sight. They couldn't even see each other. Only the dancing flames and cackle of everything burning.

Then, everything turned to blinding light.

Only a siren's voice kept them on the brink of consciousness.

"My soldiers, my brave troopers."

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_**Chapter One- **_

Bleary images flashed behind Dean Winchester's eyelids. Fire. Searing patches of skin and hair. The twisted glee on the dragons' faces. Wisps of white hair that was hardly noticeable against the bright heat. Then that white light. That blinding light. The hushed wind.

Now the foreign murmurings that reverberated in his ears. Strangely, it was comforting.

"Wake up," a soft female voice whispered, then he felt fingers ghost over his forehead and cheek.

His eyes snapped open, "What the hell…?"

"You're awake. Good, there's water…" He tried to sit up only to reel back in dizziness, then slowly tried again. The owner of the voice was a young woman kneeling next to Sammy's bed with her back toward him. She was petite and had white-blonde hair pulled back into a sloppy ponytail. "Well, there's water somewhere."

She stood and looked at Dean. Her skin was very fair and her eyes were a pale grey.

"Who the hell—" Dean started, then shivered and looked down. Unlike him, she was dressed: a button up purple shirt with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows and faded blue jeans with a pair of polka-dotted converse. Even in the strange situation, he could clearly see she was pretty. "And I'm naked. Now, I know I didn't exactly have the time to have that kind of fun last night, so I hope you had your fun. But I must say that I am much more fun awake—"

"Your brother should wake up in a few hours—no, wait, I'm not speaking to you, Char—Or you, Ezekiel. Thank you, Theresa. Now, shush, shush, I need my ears for a conversation. No, not now, Isobel." There was a Bluetooth attached to her ear. "Julius-Julius, I cannot hear with your shouting. Look, just be quiet—I do need both of my ears. Titus, I told you—No, you know I told you to call Anne."

She threw Dean an apologetic glance. He tapped his wrist and her brow wrinkled in confusion, "What's that mean?"

"I'm on the—"

"Sorry," Her voice was louder than before as if she was talking over a crowd of people, "I can't hear a—please be quiet Julius. No, please, Ezekiel. I'm serious."

He glared at the ear piece and aimed a blow at the earpiece. "Just listen now."

She dodged quickly and held up her index finger, "Yeah, I get it—No, I can't just visit them just because I'm on Earth. Hedwig—No, Hedwig—I said. No, no, no, no, Simon. I can't fight with—Please be quiet. Not you too, Ez—Titus! Quiet, please!" Al the while she was dodging swipes at her ear.

"Dammit, stand still, Blondie!" He snapped through his teeth.

"Theresa, not a good time, can you get the others quiet? Hedwig—no, I mean. Please. Play nice! Simon—let it go already." She bent backwards at an almost impossible angle, then flipped upside-down with one hand balancing her against the ground. He stared at her long and hard, checked out her ass, then leaned over and snatched the earpiece. "Ezekiel, what did I say? Please—Just leave it alone. And be quiet all of you! No, I can't tell you where I am. Blaise, you of all…" Then she started speaking French.

The girl flipped upside up and kept babbling.

Dean just stared, then looked down at the Bluetooth, then back at her. Ok, so the chick was insane. Hot, but completely and totally insane. He quickly got over to Sam and started to shake him awake. "Sam? Sam! You gotta get up, there's some demon keeping us hostage."

Sam jerked up and nailed Dean in the jaw with his forehead.

"Son of a—!"

"What—where are we?" Sam exclaimed and let out a yelp, "Why am I naked? Why are you naked?"

"—Yeah, you guessed it, I'm in Canada." The girl said sarcastically. "No, I'm checking on sol—Now—Be quiet!"

"Who's that?"

"No idea, lets just get out of here before she stops talkin' to herself!" Dean said, scrambling around to find his clothes.

She ran a hand over her face, "No, Sam was supposed to sleep longer, his burns were worse and his ribs might still be sore. Nope, non-non-non, not a clue what—Just be—Please—" Dean creaked the door open. "SILENCE!"

The door snapped closed, the lights flickered, and the wooden floor shook. The room became completely quiet. Sam and Dean were still. Not even the soft sound of a sigh pierced the air.

"Ah, much better. And sneaking out isn't going to work. Plus, where would you go out in your starkers. You don't even know where we are." She appeared in front of them, blinking owlishly, "Sam, you should lay back down, I need to check your ribs. Your burns have gotten better, I see."

"Who are you?" Sam grabbed a lamp and braced it threateningly, "What do you want?"

Dean yanked one of the drawers from the side table and glared at her.

The girl blinked a few times, then realization hit and she slowly raised her hands up in surrender. "Look, I'm not a demon, shifter or any of that…_ѐ__toffe_." I'm an angel, well sort of. A very low level angel."

Sam tok a wild swing and the girl bent backwards again.

"I'm here to help!" She yelped, "If I wanted you dead, I would have left you to the dragons!"

"Why did you save us?" Dean raised the drawer higher.

"Because I save soldiers and I didn't want you to die." She looked directly at Sam, "My name's Jeanne D'Arc, but you're English—I mean, you speak it, so to you I am Joan."

Sam flinched and squared his shoulders. There was an intensity about her stare that was incredibly familiar and…well…safe. "Jeanne D'Arc? As in Joan of Arc? The Catholic saint?"

"You've heard of me." She gave a small smile and slowly lowered her hands. "Now that you know that, would you mind putting those down? They are not a good defense, I can tell you that."

"Why should we? Aren't you in league with Uriel?" Dean didn't lower his make shift weapon.

Joan just gave him a weird look, "Uriel? What does Uriel have to do with this mess? I'm here because I saved both of you from being burnt to a crisp." She slid a duffle bag with the side of her foot over to them. "There's your clothes. All fixed and your car is outside without the dents and the headlights intact. Now get dressed. I'm sure there's a job around here that you can do." She pushed her bangs back out of habit, pulled out a chair, then sat in it backwards so that her back was toward them. "Oh, and your car keys in there too, but don't think about leaving yet. I'm not finished speaking with both of you while I can. It's hard to make them be quiet."

"Who?" Dean immediately started pulling on his clothes with the urgency of a married man trying to get home to his wife from an affair.

"Other saints, angels, you name it." She sighed, "There are quite a few saints that can hear every voice of heaven. You should see Lucy, her hearing is magnificent. Not to mention Joshua." She let out a low whistle.

"Why did you save us?" Sam buttoned up his shirt.

She ran her fingers through her hair again and didn't say anything for a moment, "I'll tell you when I'm facing you, Samuel Winchester. You could say that it's part of my job description to keep you alive."

There was a familiar deadpan to her voice that made Sam flinch. That was familiar too. A lot like how Castiel spoke.

"Why do angels want to protect me?" Sam asked walking closer to where she was sitting, "I'm not exactly on the Good list this year."

"They don't," She said bluntly, tugging her hair down over her face, "I do."

"Why?" He squatted in front of her and stared her dead in the eye.

Joan just gazed at him and leaned against her hand before getting up and clapping her hands. "Well, you two are already done getting ready and such. My guess is that your angel is going to be here soon and it would be best if I'm not caught doing business."

"Business?" Dean asked immediately, "And who's our angel?"

"Castiel," She stated, "He's your angel, Dean." Her brow wrinkled again and she took a few steps toward Dean and placed a hand on his chest. "He hasn't told you yet?"

"Told me what?"

"Alright," She tightened her ponytail and whirled around to look at Sam, "You two probably head on to wherever you're going."

"What happened to talking?" Sam took a step toward her.

She met his stare, "We did talk. You're dressed. You're healed." She cupped his cheek gently and stroked his cheek with her thumb, then gently touched his chest. His eyes widened only slightly at the sudden warmth that blossomed there. "I'm just here to make sure my soldiers keep to good condition. And you two," Her glance flickered to Dean briefly, "are an army of two against one of thousands. So why should I not help in my way that I can?" She took her hand away from Sam's chest and heaved another sigh.

"Well, it was nice talking to you two." And she promptly disappeared.

Sam and Dean let out different swears. When they got over the momentary anger, they quickly left to realize Joan was right. The car was fixed up, their clothes were good as new, and they felt properly refreshed. Something neither had felt in a very long time. There was even a newspaper that was flipped to an article that held a promising job for the two in Lincoln, Nebraska—only a few hours away.

Sam almost didn't notice the little prayer card that was sticking out between the newspaper pages. There was the depiction of Saint Joan of Arc in feminine armor with a sword bared in her hand. On the back was a small description: her saint day, the day she was born and the day she died, and what she was the patron of. At the very edge of the laminated card was a scribbled seven digit number. He glanced at Dean and quickly tucked it into his pocket. This woman was weird, but she wasn't terrible.

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**I will be writing other stories about Joan with the Winchester brothers, particularly Sam. I don't plan on heading into a romantic development, but she will become an important character in Sam's life. Please review! **


	2. Howl

_Don't Own_

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Takes place during Metamorphosis.

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"I'd watch myself if I were you," Sam Winchester warned the demon that sat before him. The taunts were getting to him and he had everything to prove. Ruby was watching him after all, her blood coursed through his veins.

The demon kept at his foul words till he exorcized it.

Joan watched from the other side of the room. It was pure agony to have to watch him do this. Especially when she couldn't interfere. Appearing to him at all was very risky on her part, but she still meant to protect him. The sigil bearing wrist cuff on her right arm reminded her of the mild probation Uriel put her under. It kept her from appearing to the Winchesters.

Then Dean came and a minor detonation in the string of time bombs weren't off. And that demon was still there with a vile smirk twisting her mouth. What was human and what wasn't. What's right and what's wrong. All of it was dark and pressed too close to the walls.

Joan's eyes narrowed at the mention of Castiel stopping Sam. If they wanted him to be stopped, then why were they holding her back? The frustrated little thought rolled around in her head. She appeared next to the unconscious man and cupped his face gently. He was healed within moments of her touching him.

She turned and locked eyes with Ruby. The demon looked surprised and rightly spooked. Joan set her jaw and her eyes flashed dangerously. Ruby's breath caught in her throat, eyes wide.

Before she did anything drastic, Joan disappeared and waited behind the building. A long black coat with the collar flipped up against her cheeks. Her long hair blew against the wind, pulling out of her loose ponytail. It was frustrating in the worst way possible. She was patient though, and her stress ball was about to walk through the door.

The door opened. Joan raised a hand and the civilian disappeared.

"Ruby, right?" Joan asked, tilting her head up to look at the cocky demon.

"Who wants to know?" Ruby tossed back, slipping her façade on.

"If I made that list, you wouldn't listen." Joan chuckled lightly, taking a few measured steps toward her, "But you will listen to what I have to say."

"And here I didn't think angels could have a sense of humor." Ruby sneered. Joan grabbed Ruby's wrist and gave her a sharp look.

"Don't think you're not on radar, you've been there since you became involved with Sam." Joan said, keeping a tight grip on Ruby's wrist as she tried to squirm away, "If I wasn't restrained, I'd send you straight back to hell. So I suggest you don't come back. If you don't…I will exorcize you." She leaned in closer to Ruby's face. "Understand?"

Ruby gave a shaky laugh, "Are you threatening me, Whither Wings? Threatening a demon? A low level angel like you? Please. Wasting my time with empty threats."

Joan simply gave her a cold look, "I am the patron saint of soldiers and the French. I know every tactic you could possibly think of and everywhere you run. I can make you wish for hell all over again. Not to mention, I would look good doing it. So, I say again, leave Sam Winchester before I handicap you for good." With that, Joan let go of her. Ruby disappeared the second Joan's grip loosened.

She let out a long, slow, sigh. The cuff was glowing with heat against her vessel's skin. She wasn't meant to use her power on Earth, Uriel made sure to make his orders of observation very clear. Moving that man to the nearby motel was enough to trip it.

There was a flurry of wings and wind behind her.

"Am I being punished again?" Joan asked, flexing her fingers.

"For what?" It was Castiel, not Uriel. Not her babysitter. "What are you doing here, Joan?"

"Keeping an eye on my charge." She said, "You're not here to take this off, right?"

He glanced down at her wrist and his brow pulled together.

"Dean didn't tell you that I saved them?" She looked at him with a twisted smile, "I patched them up and snatched them from a pair of dragons. If not for me, they would be crisps. And this—" She raised her fist to show off the band, "—is what I receive."

"You disobeyed orders."

She gave a wry smile and shrugged, "They know I only follow orders from one being, there are only so many ways you can leash me."

"And you don't think you should be punished?" Castiel asked incredulously, "You didn't think you would be punished?"

"I knew they would punish me," She stated blankly, turning to look at him, "but I wasn't thinking about it. Or about anything, really, I just did." She pushed back the other voiced in her mind with a grimace.

"I see." He murmured with a darkening gaze, "Thank you, for saving them."

"There's no need to thank me." She gave him a sharp look, "How come you haven't told them? Sorry, him. How come you haven't told him?"

"What are you talking about?"

She smiled and poked him lightly in the chest, "Don't play dumb you'll lose terribly. You know exactly what I'm talking about."

They stared at each other, assessing what happened and what was going to happen. Joan averted her gaze and tucked her hair behind her ear. "I admire you, Castiel, I really do. Everything you've done…but please keep both of them." She poked his chest again. "Both of them."

Her grey eyes probed his blue ones, her brow wrinkling and her lips trembling, "Please, Castiel."

He paused and stared down at her. Wondering why in God's name she was taking on this sort of task when she was the saint of so many. Why she was taking on a task that was so futile that no one else wanted it for their worst enemy. "I will."

A sad smile split across her face and she was gone.

He sighed and looked to the sky as if for guidance. Then he disappeared as well.

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